


A Wolf's Moon

by alan713ch



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Feels, McCall Pack, Other, Rejection, Transformation, lots of feels, scott mccall is a true alpha, told from lydia's pov, true alpha wolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 00:13:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1707752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alan713ch/pseuds/alan713ch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott was <i>off</i>. He was still walking with the hunch he acquired after Allison’s death, so far from the werewolf confidence he had gained at the beginning of junior year, but it was not the only thing that seemed wrong about him. He kept shaking his head, clearing his forehead with his hand, and at one point Lydia saw him drag his feet. Stiles was there to support him, and Kira, and Malia, and Lydia herself, and she was sure Derek was near the school in case something happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wolf's Moon

It started a couple of weeks before classes began again.

She’d been at Scott’s - they were almost always together, she and him and Stiles and even Derek was there. Most times Kira was there too, and every once in a while Malia would be there, demanding Scott to teach him things about being a shapeshifter. Lydia and Kira had started to teach her a couple of things about being a girl, too. They’d been in the middle of one of those conversations (having banished the boys to the downstairs television, where Scott and Stiles would try to teach Derek how not to suck at Mass Effect) when she heard it the first time. She cocked her head, trying to pinpoint a location - but it was from inside her head. She knew that.

“What?” Kira asked, her hand still braiding Malia’s hair. The coyote just looked at her, trying to reap the answer from her eyes.

“I thought I heard something.”

“Heard something, or heard something?” Kira asked again, hands still and her eyes focusing on Lydia as well. Lydia tried to focus, but whatever it had been it was long gone.

“It was not the voices I hear when someone is about to die. It was… a howl.” Malia turned her head so her left ear would face the window. A couple of beats later, she shook her head.

“I don’t hear nothing.”

“Do you think we should tell Scott?”

“No,” Lydia was smiling again, “it was probably nothing. Besides, Scott and Stiles need to destroy Derek.”

“Again?” Kira giggled.

“I don’t understand the fascination with a video game where you shoot aliens. I was a fan of Mario Kart back when I was little.” Kira and Lydia just smiled at themselves and proceeded to finish Malia’s hair.

Thirty minutes later the three of them were destroying Derek in Mario Kart Wii, while Scott and Stiles were throwing a lacrosse ball outside.

* * *

It kept howling.

Days had trickled by, and every day she could hear the howl again, a little bit louder, a little bit closer. It was gone the moment she tried to focus on it, to find where it could come from, but as soon as she did not pay attention to it, it was back there, like the background song of a melodramatic scene in a movie. It was not detracting, no, but it was also not quiet. It was getting on her nerves, because she didn’t know what it was - and if there was one thing she didn’t like was not to know.

So she went to Alan Deaton one afternoon when she was sure Scott wouldn’t be there. Stiles was having another episode and the only thing that would calm him would be his alpha comforting him, confronting him, reminding him that it had not been him who had caused so much chaos, so much strife, so much pain. Lydia knew it, and Lydia knew Stiles knew it, but she also knew Stiles was having trouble believing it. And she knew that when Scott spoke with his voice, with the voice of the alpha, there was no way Stiles could deny it. If the alpha said it it had to be true. She knew it.

She also knew she was supposed to be there, she felt the aching on her bones telling her to go to her alpha, but she needed to know before she could tell Scott what was going on.

She didn’t want another Allison to repeat. This time, she’d know.

“Miss Martin, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Doctor. I’ve been postponing this meeting with you for a while.”

“What do you need?”

“What do you know about banshees?”

Deaton had opened one of the drawers and got some books out. He gave them to her.

“I’m afraid not much. Harbingers of death, omens of the end, but that’s it. It has been a while since a living banshee had been seen out and about.”

“There’s Meredith.”

“Locked away because she let her powers consume her. Do not let that happen to you, Miss Martin.”

“I never let anything consume me. If any, I am the one who consumes.”

The books gave her a great excuse - she didn’t need to mention the howling to anyone. That night, after eating the food Derek had got for all of them (including Scott’s mom and Stiles’ dad, who seemed to be spending a lot of time together) all four of them grabbed a book and started reading.

They didn’t help much, but at least told her something. That not all the voices she heard were of Death. That she could also hear good omens.

However, a wolf’s cry was usually not a good one.

* * *

The night before classes, she texted Derek and asked him to go to the woods with her. She knew Scott and Stiles were already asleep - wanting to be at top form before lacrosse tryouts the following afternoon. Also, they were probably wary of the idea of going to the woods at night the day before classes. That’s how it had all begun.

She was also smart enough not to go alone. And she hoped Derek would not ask that many questions.

Well, he didn’t. His eyebrows did.

“I keep hearing howls. And I want to try and locate them.”

Just like Malia, he cocked his head and scouted the airwaves. Just like Malia, he couldn’t hear anything.

“Derek, I’m a banshee, we know I hear things people don’t.”

“But howls? I thought you heard spirits warning you of oncoming deaths.”

“So did I. But it’s been more than a week that I keep hearing these howls, they have to mean something. And I don’t want to tell Scott until I know what they mean - I…” she bit her lip and looked down, her boots full of dirt and leaves, “I don’t want another dead body on our midst.”

Derek didn’t say anything. He just came closer and half hugged her. She could feel the tactility of the wolf enveloping her like a warm blanket, and smiled a little bit at it.

“How… no, I’m sorry, wrong question.”

“Hm?”

“I was gonna ask how many howls, but it’s ridiculous - beau geste and all that.”

“Four.”

She was certain of it. No more, and no less.

“You sure?”

She just nodded. She kept trying to zero them in, but she couldn’t.

When she analyzed her cellphone gps data, she noticed that they had formed a perfect circle around the Nemeton.

She just went to bed. Whatever it was, it was time to tell Scott.

* * *

Or maybe not.

Scott was off. He was still walking with the hunch he acquired after Allison’s death, so far from the werewolf confidence he had gained at the beginning of junior year, but it was not the only thing that seemed wrong about him. He kept shaking his head, clearing his forehead with his hand, and at one point Lydia saw him drag his feet. Stiles was there to support him, and Kira, and Malia, and Lydia herself, and she was sure Derek was near the school in case something happened.

“Scott, what is it?”

“Nothing. I - I just had a bad dream. That’s all.”

“Allison?” Lydia knew she had to ask.

“Not exactly. I - I just dreamed, that’s all. No big deal.”

“Scottie, maybe you shouldn’t try out today. We’ll tell Finstock something, he’ll let you try out tomorrow, you’ll see. He knows he can’t lose you.”

“No, no - I’m fine. I’m fine. I’ll try out today.”

“Scott…” Kira started, but she didn’t know what to say.

“We’ll be there, and we’ll stop you if you start getting wolfy.” Malia nodded and the other three followed. They finished their meals and Lydia just texted Derek letting her know of Scott’s stubbornness.

Derek had found an emoji for rolling eyes. That was impressive.

* * *

The tryouts had gone well. They had gone a little too well. Not only was Scott on control of his abilities, it seemed that he was also drawing the attention from all the players on the field. A natural leader, you could say, if it weren’t because Lydia knew perfectly well they were all reacting to Scott’s inner wolf. Particularly Stiles, who seemed to have improved his lacrosse game by several orders of magnitude.

What had not gone well was the aftermath of the tryouts. She and the girls were waiting right outside the locker room and she was mulling over the fact that she heard the howls increase their volume while the tryouts had gone by, when she saw Malia went into the room. In it, Stiles was trying real hard to keep Scott from going to Danny.

She didn’t need to ask why. As soon as Danny accusingly whispered that Scott had bitten Stiles, she slapped him.

A lot of the boys had panicked because there were three girls in there.

“Danny, I love you, and I don’t know how you know about werewolves. But if you accuse my alpha of biting someone just to get an advantage in a stupid game of lacrosse, I’ll make sure your little stint in ninth grade shows up in every college’s admission department you end up applying to.”

Danny just glowered at her but backed away. Her priority was to calm down Scott, whom she didn’t remember to see so affronted.

But then again, she remembered that Peter had bit him just like he had bit her, against their will. And who they were would always be tainted by that.

So she didn’t tell Scott. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t even talk to Scott - Derek arrived to get him out of the school grounds, and when she finally got a text from Stiles saying that they were back home, they had been running around in the preserve well past midnight.

She hoped Scott would be better in the morning, having burned all that energy away.

* * *

He wasn’t. If anything, he was crankier. It looked so much unlike Scott she knew the other students would be afraid. She wasn’t - she was pack, but she knew they needed to calm him down. Not only was his demeanor unlike him, his physical movements were too jerky, too aggressive, that Malia and Stiles didn’t let him alone not even to go the restroom, afraid he would rip off one of the stalls or destroy one of the lockers.

When Danny had approached their table at lunch time, with a big box of chocolates and a sincere apology, they all froze, hoping that Scott was still in there and not the wolf that seemed to be in charge. Danny had made his homework, for he not only approached them slowly and spoke only to Scott, he also bared his neck to the alpha and repeated the apology twice. Scott took the chocolates from him (and gave them to Stiles, who started wolfing them down, pun completely intended) and nodded.

After Danny left, he turned to them.

“I’m not OK. I’m feeling too warm, all my bones ache, and every single movement feels like a threat to me. I need to go.”

“Derek’s outside. Tell him to take you running again. Maybe he’ll tire you this time.” Stiles was already calling Mrs. McCall (“Melissa, Lydia, please”) to get them an excuse to get the werewolf out of there. Malia left too, since she knew the forests better than anyone else, and had also been looking for an excuse to run in her pelt again since she had finally mastered returning to her animal form.

Lydia, Stiles and Kira went straight to Deaton, who was as baffled as they were.

“Maybe he is going into heat?”

“Werewolves do not go into heats, Mr. Stilinski. That is driven by the instinct of preservation, which functions completely different in a human. I’m afraid your imagination is overreaching.”

“Then what is going on?”

“I honestly don’t know. I’ve never encountered with something like this before. My sister says she hasn’t either, but she is trying to get in touch with other emissaries. I’m afraid all we can do is wait.”

They didn’t. They went all back to her house and started scourging every single website in the Internet that could have a myth, a legend or a folk tale related to werewolves. They searched and searched and searched, but between all the conflicting information and lack of experience they ended up worse than they had begun.

By the time Derek and Malia were back, dragging an unconscious Scott (“He’s fine, he’s just tired, he outrunned us several times but he finally got tired.”) her head was pounding, too, the howls as loud as if the wolves snouts were in her ears.

* * *

Friday found them all inside the McCall house.

Scott was trashing in the basement. He moved there on his own volition, trying to protect as many objects as possible from the bursts of rage and adrenaline he seemed to be having. At first they had all tried to be with him, but not even Stiles was capable of sweet talk him back into submission. Mrs. McCall and the Sheriff had loaded some weapons - God only knew where Chris Argent was, still in Paris, still with Isaac who was not with them - but they were not even sure they had it in them to shoot Scott. Derek would go in there and fight him, but after a few minutes, when Scott would regain a modicum of control, he’d use his alpha voice to order him out, and Derek had no option but to obey.

And the wolves kept howling in her head.

Kira knelt next to her, trying to pry her from the cold tiles of the bathroom. She hid in there because she could not bear hearing Scott losing himself to the wolf, accompanied by a symphony that was playing just for her.

She didn’t want to see the moment he’d turn into the same monster Peter was.

“Lydia, come on. Scott needs us.”

“I know. But I can’t. I can’t.”

“Lydia, please. Just - just, let’s get out of here.”

Even if she agreed with her, her own Id wanted to remain in the cold damp room as much as possible. But she was Lydia Martin, she was logical, she was rational, and she left the room with Kira.

They saw Derek and Malia go several times throughout the day. Stiles, too. Even Lydia tried to reason with Scott behind a closed door, but she could barely hear him above the howls. She cried with Melissa, who couldn’t understand what her son was going through, and trembled with Kira, who was still too new to the supernatural to not let her fear show on her features.

Night fell. A full moon.

A Wolf’s moon.

Stiles laughed bitterly.

“What a great way for Scott to spend his one year anniversary as a werewolf, huh? Losing control again. Why, Derek? Why?”

“I don’t know! He shouldn’t be losing control anymore. He was doing great finally.”

“The lack of anchor? The lack of Allison?” Lydia asked.

“No. He had found himself as an anchor,” Melissa answered, “or at least, I thought he had. We had that conversation after you guys did… after you guys rescued us from Ms. Blake.”

“Then what, Derek? What is going on?”

“I don’t… Wait, Lydia! How many howls did you say you could hear?”

“Four. Why?”

“You. Me. Stiles. Scott. Sorry Kira, Malia, as much as you’ve been here you haven’t been here for all of it. That’s why Scott still doesn’t consider you pack.”

“Scott’s wolf.” Stiles corrected him.

“Scott and the wolf are one, Stiles. That’s what’s going on.”

“Wait, what?”

“The Wolf moon, Stiles. The Wolf Moon!”

Lydia understood. Derek was already sprinting towards the basement, but they heard a window shatter and a wolf whimper in pain and they barely saw Scott running towards the preserve, free from the prison he had created against himself. Cursing themselves for not putting mountain ash around the house, Derek and Malia went after him on their own, Kira and Stiles and herself jumped into the blue Jeep and she could see Melissa and the Sheriff get into his cruiser.

“Where are we going? Where is he going?” Kira asked.

“Where else? The Nemeton.” Stiles answered. He drove them as much as he could, and then they ran as fast as they could, getting to that desolate stump at the same time as Scott was coming out of the woods and right towards them, chased out by a wolfed Derek and a Coyote Malia. Scott stopped atop of the stump, and growled at them.

“Scott McCall, don’t you growl at me, I am your mother!” Lydia couldn’t hear the words Melissa was saying, but she could feel them in her bones, a mother’s warning to a child that was misbehaving. It didn’t calm Scott, but at least gave him something to focus.

“Leave me alone, please, before I hurt you. Before I lose it completely.”

“Scott, we are not going anywhere,” with the conviction that had left him with the nogitsune, Stiles approached the stump, “we are here, for you. Your pack.”

“I don’t deserve a pack! I can’t protect you guys! What’s the point of me being your alpha if I can’t protect you?”

“Scott. Scott! Alpha!” At Derek’s use of the title, Scott turned to him, eyes red, fangs out, claws poised, “Scott, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you lost Allison. I’m sorry I was never able to help you understand. But don’t you see? This is why you are a great alpha. Because you care. Because you try. Because you do. This is why you are my alpha.”

“Scottie, please, I know I can’t repeat it verbatim but you know. You are my brother. If I’m here right now it’s because of you - it’s because you went into the mind of a demon and found all the shattered pieces of me and stitched me back together. If that is not enough to show you that you are worthy of a pack, then tell me what is, because I sure as hell don’t know what else could it be.”

“Son,” the Sheriff spoke, “I’ve seen you. I’ve seen you with your friends, I’ve seen you with your enemies. You are a great leader. You need to understand, sometimes bad things happen, and we can’t do anything about it. We grieve, we weep, we cry. But we move on. Because they’d want us to move on.”

Scott had managed to slow down, even if his features were still feral. He tried to push the wolf down inside of him, but as much as he tried the eyes remained a fulgurant red, and his voice was hoarse. Stiles tried to approach him, but suddenly something snapped and his arm was twisted. Another snap and he was on his back, arched in an unnatural position. Melissa screamed in agony and Derek yelled at him to let it out, to let it merge, but Scott was still fighting and Lydia was still hearing howls and howls and howls and then she heard a voice that only she could hear.

“Scott!”

He turned to her, his body distorted, his features showing the internal struggle.

“Scott, please, stop. Stop fighting it.”

“I don’t want to become like Peter, Lydia. I can’t.”

“Scott, you are not Peter,” Lydia could feel the tears down her cheeks, “you will never be Peter. You care too much to be like Peter.”

Another snap and it seemed that Scott’s spine had broken, that he was ready to hurl his innards out.

“I couldn’t protect her.”

“Because she didn’t want you to. Because she chose to fight alongside you, not behind you.”

“I failed, Lydia.”

“She disagrees.”

They all looked at her, trying to see if she was lying. But they knew she wasn’t. They knew she could hear Allison’s voice in the middle of the howls, loud and clear, like she was standing next to her, whispering what she needed Scott to hear.”

“She says that yes, she wanted to keep living and graduate high school and all that, but that out of all the ways she could have gone, it was fitting. That she went out as a warrior. Fighting, not hiding - and damn it, Allison, why would you say that?” If she was having the chance to hear her, she would ask, even if she was supposed to only rely the message. “She says that she could’ve never left you, or me, or us, or Beacon Hills. Because we are its guardians. Not you alone, Scott. All of us.”

And Lydia could feel everyone's eyes on her, understanding what she meant. What price they had paid. What it meant her loss.

And she could see Scott’s breathing steadying, and him getting on his knees, his body still a weird contraption but at least back in control of it. And he was looking at her, fear and anger and sadness in his eyes and Lydia wanted to cry because she got used to the smile Scott McCall possessed, a smile that could lit up rooms, that could lift up souls, and now all there was was sadness.

“Come on, Scott. You know she loved you for who you were. Wolf and all.”

“I…”

“Scott,” and Lydia could feel the dissonance in her voice, and she let Allison speak through her, “stop fighting it. It’s you. It’s a part of you. It’s who you really are.”

“Allison?”

Lydia nodded. “Come on, Scott. You know she wants you to.” She was just herself again, but that had assuaged his doubts.

Scott closed his eyes. Slowly he opened his arms, stretching his upper body across the Nemeton. The balls of his feet and bottom of his knees were the only points of support of his frame, his head slowly tilting back, his mouth taking in a breath of air. She could feel him open his eyes, she could feel the red enlightening the field, the power emanating from her alpha, filling her, feeling her packmates, filling even those that were just invited to the ceremony.

And in a moment there was Scott, and in a moment he was no more.

A gorgeous wolf stood instead, white and gray and golden, lean, wiry, majestic.

“Cuetlachcoyotl.”

Everybody looked at her with a confused expression on her face.

“He got the looks from his mama.” Lydia told Melissa, who just started laughing, like a dam had broken in her or something.

The wolf kept looking at all of them, his eyes shifting between a shining gold and a fulgurant red. Slowly, Derek approached the stump, and when he got within six feet of it, he knelt and showed his neck.

Scott went up to him, and nuzzled the neck, and even for a moment it seemed that it was going to bite him, but he never broke skin. Derek just hugged him, brushing the hair, stroking it, basking in the essence of his alpha.

Lydia knew she was next. She approached the stump, and let Scott walk towards her, repeating the same gestures, her feeling the sweetness of his touch, even when he let his teeth scrape her neck. She smiled, and rubbed him behind the ears, and he snorted like trying to assert his position as alpha.

“Oh, you know you like it!”

Last, but definitely not least, Lydia saw Stiles approach the Nemeton, and Scott Stiles. The boy crouched to the wolf, but waited patiently for it to approach him, and nuzzle him, and scrape his neck. And of course Stiles had to be the one to break the moment, because he started giggling.

“Come on, Scottie, it tickles!”

The parents and Kira and Malia had approached the two of them, but leaving a respectful distance between them and the wolf. Scott had finished scenting Stiles, and now was looking at him very intently.

She should’ve seen it coming. Stiles should’ve seen it coming. Nobody should’ve been surprised by the fact that Scott basically tackled Stiles onto the floor, and started slobbering his face.

“Scott! Scott, please, you are gonna make me all slimy!”

“Beautiful.” Nobody had seen the druid arrive, but Alan Deaton was with them, watching the spectacle his employee and his best friend were performing.

“You didn’t know about full wolf transfigurations?” Lydia asked, incredulous of his actions before.

“Of course I did, Miss Martin. However, I had never seen someone fight it before with such vehemence he had been able to keep it at bay. It never occurred to me it was his inner wolf trying to merge with him the cause of his symptoms. Nor had I ever thought that you were able to hear its cries.”

They all saw Stiles finally get up in a seating position, Scott still looking at all of them with those big beautiful eyes. The wolf took a couple of steps back, and in a swift motion raised its head, snout pointed at the moon.

Derek followed. And as ridiculous as it seemed, Stiles did too.

And as ridiculous as she felt, Lydia started howling too.

The howls were no longer inside her head. They were outside, and they were beautiful.

 

 


End file.
